heaven inside of her
by MyVintageLove
Summary: He sees her moving and it takes a second for him to react, but it's a second too late. Perhaps she sees him wince, perhaps she doesn't. But, as she throws herself at them in what seems to be a greeting hug, nothing happens. Quite literally, as she passes through them as if they weren't even in the room.


I watched the pilot of the US version (yeah, I know) and quite like the idea of ghost not only being invisible to human but not being corporeal. So, of course, I started thinking about what things would be like if Annie were like that and how it would affect her relationship with Mitchell as the both of them have no idea what "personal space" is.

So here's trying to deal with the idea. And failing.

* * *

i.

"You can see me?!"

It's an awkward situation, the three of them are quite aware of that. Or, at least, Mitchell is aware of that. George is too shocked, shivering and still holding his cricket bat and his eyes open wide. And the ghost, she's... the image of happiness. Poor thing. He wonders how long she's being alone in the house, how long since she last spoke to someone who wasn't herself. He knows of ghosts who went crazy because of that, because of close doors and empty spaces. Maybe she is crazy. She looks crazy enough, with her big eyes and her grin and her curls bouncing on her shoulders.

He sees her moving and it takes a second for him to react, but it's a second too late. Perhaps she sees him wince, perhaps she doesn't. But, as she throws herself at them in what seems to be a greeting hug, nothing happens. Quite literally, as she passes through them as if they weren't even in the room. Mitchell immediately turns around, still wincing because George starts panicking in a very George-like way, and the little ghost just froze, her back to him. He watches as her shoulders jolt.

Great.

A crying ghost.

"You no longer have a body," he tells her even if it's useless. She might have come to the same conclusion herself.

And indeed... "I know I don't have a BODY! I'm DEAD!" Gosh, is she loud. She turns around to face him and her smile is gone, with a frown and red eyes. "But you can see me, I thought..."

And, just like that, she starts sobbing. George, startle out of his torpor, does what any man would do in such a situation: he runs away. Mitchell signs and raises his hand as to put it on her shoulder, but of course his fingers only meet thin air, and it makes her cry even more.

"Don't worry, we'll figure things out."

Even if he has no idea how. Ghosts can't touch and be touched, every supernatural knows that.

ii.

She can't touch anything. She can't be touched by anyone. She can't leave the house. She can't do anything like a proper human being. But gosh does Annie know how to use her Poltergeist powers when she wants.

Of course it starts when she learns the truth about Owen. She quickly manages to channel it, though, even if she doesn't use it that often. Only when she's angry. Which is regularly, if she's honest with herself. When George pisses her off or when Mitchell leaves his shoes somewhere they shouldn't be ("Why do you care? You can't even trip over them!") or when Owen comes by for the rent or something. They buy new plates and mugs every week, it's a nightmare.

It's only when Mitchell threatens to move out and leaves her alone in the house if she doesn't behave that Annie finally calms down.

She spends a whole week sulking in her room.

He apologizes to her just because he misses her smile.

iii.

He doesn't fucking know how you're supposed to bring a ghost back from Purgatory when you can't take said ghost by the hand and get her the hell out of here (literally). But it has never stopped him from trying before.

And, as he finally manages to get past Lia and her threats and her prophecy, it's the biggest relief of all when he hears Annie's voice in that long empty corridor. He's never been happier to see her lovely face than when she runs toward him, and his name sounds like desperation and craving on her lips.

She stops only inches away from him and his whole body is etching to take her in his arms and never let go off her. But he can't and he almost whines at that mere thought.

He's already wanted to touch her before, to hug her when she did something adorable or to kiss her cheek when she says something nice or simply to pat her shoulder as a hello in the morning. But never before had he needed to touch her like that and it's more painful than any bloodlust.

"You saved me."

No, correction. _That_'s more painful than any bloodlust.

"You saved me too."

iv.

Vampires don't dream. They have restless nights, nightmares at best. Blood and craving and victims coming back to haunt them in the darkness of the night. Never dreams.

Still, he dreams of her sometimes. (Every night.)

He dreams of her skin, but there's no thirst, no need to sink his fangs in her and to taste her blood. There's no body to bite, no blood to drink. But there's her skin, golden in the sun and dark in her night. He dreams of her skin, and he dreams of her curls brushing his cheek. He dreams of her taste, like honey and tea and vanilla, he dreams of his tongue discovering every inch of her body. He dreams of her laugh, of her whimpers, of her sighs. He dreams of her like he's never dreamt before, and he can't remember if dreams were so vivid when he was human.

He dreams of her kisses and her fingers on his chest and her body pressed against him.

He wakes up in a startle, in the middle of the night, out of breath and hard.

Cold showers at two in the morning are his only salvation.

v.

"I think I fancy Annie."

"Finally!"

He looks at George as if he were an alien and the werewolf only chuckles and rolls his eyes.

"Mitchell, you and Annie are many things, but subtle you are not. You've been hovering around each other for weeks."

He opens and closes his mind several times, out of words, before sitting back on the couch with his arms crossed on his chest. "What a mess."

"It's kind of adorable, actually."

He hits George in the chin as the little bugger chuckles to himself. Count on your best friend to make fun of you in your moments of weakness!

"How is that even supposed to work? With a ghosts?!"

They both know the implication of those words.

vi.

"And... that's the man I want."

He stares at her, doesn't dare moving, doesn't dare telling her how wrong she is to trust him so easily. He wants to tell her everything he has done, every human he has killed, every detail weighting on his heart. She needs the truth, she needs honesty.

But John Mitchell isn't an honest man; John Mitchell is a selfish man.

And she wants him as much as he wants her.

"Do you forgive me?"

He doesn't feel her hand on his cheek and he doesn't feel her lips brushing against his. He doesn't feel anything at all if it's not for his heart beating hard against his chest. But, if he closes his eyes hard enough, he can pretend he does.

And perhaps it's more than enough.

vii.

She lies in bed with him at night. She can't sleep but pretends she does, her hands clasped under her cheek and a small smile on her lips with her eyes close. She's both breathtaking and adorable at once and he falls asleep knowing she will be the first thing he sees in the morning and that's the best of thoughts.

Every so often, he forgets about her condition and tries to cuddle with her, but his fingers only meet the nothingness of the room. Sometimes, with his brain half-clouded with sleep, he climbs above her, hands on each side of her head and knees brushing her untouchable hips. Sometimes, she's the one doing so, with a giggle on her lips and her curls mixing with his nose in some weird way. He doesn't hide the fact he needs cold showers every time it happens.

viii.

At some point, the nightmares go away.


End file.
